Live, Love and Die
by Livangel16
Summary: Interpol Agent Cassandra Montgomery is on the hunt for a dangerous, human trafficker when she crosses path with the infamous Sherlock Holmes and his colleague, Dr. Watson. After this imminent collision, things start heating up between the two. But a new enemy puts in an appearance that threatens to put an end to their blossoming romance. Permanently. Can they survive? Sherlock/OC


Live, Love and Die

Synopsis: Interpol Agent Cassandra Montgomery is on the hunt for a dangerous, human trafficker when she crosses path with the infamous Sherlock Holmes and his colleague, Dr. John Watson. After this imminent collision, things start changing for the witty agent and the lone-wolf detective. But a new enemy puts in an appearance that threatens to put an end to their blossoming romance. _Permanently. _Sherlock/OC

**Hey everyone! Just started watching the BBC Sherlock Holmes, and Benedict Cumberbatch has got me hooked (so has Martin Freeman, but seriously, Cumberbatch is...totally awesome!)So, this is my first time writing Sherlock fanfiction, so please bear with me! Anyways, hope you enjoy the story!**

**Disclaimer: The BBC owns Sherlock, including all characters and plotlines that they have created! I, however, am the sole owner of Cassandra and any other O/Cs and storylines that the BBC has not created!**

Chapter One-Game Over

_BANG!_

Cassandra toppled backwards from the force of the bullet, striking the ground hard. She felt the warmth of her own blood begin to seep from the wound in her stomach. Her head was pounding, and she thought she felt something wet soaking her scalp. She pressed her hands to her stomach, and felt the blood soaking her fingers. Pressing harder, Cassandra gritted her teeth and fought against the pain that was spreading throughout her body, burning it with the intensity of its heat.

A face came into view above her; a face she wished she could pummel into the ground; the face responsible for why she was here, lying on a cold, damp floor in London, England, slowly dying from a gunshot wound.

"How do you feel, sweetheart?" he asked her, his tone soothing with just a hint of taunting in it. "Tired? Aching? _Cold_?"

She gritted her teeth against the pain and tried her best to look tough and unafraid. "Better…than you…will…when…Sh-Sherlock…g-gets to…you."

He chuckled. "Sherly won't find this place. At least, not until it's too late. Pity, isn't it? The people you love the most are the ones who betray you in your greatest time of need."

"He…he…didn't…"

The man put a finger to her soft lips, silencing her. His smile made her skin crawl, as though his pleasure came from watching her slowly slip away. "Shh. Darling. Don't talk so much. You'll only go faster."

He stood up and dusted his hands. He walked a few feet away from her. From his breast pocket, he removed a Victorian-styled, gold pocket watch. He gazed at the small clock before it vanished back into the depths of the darkness that cloaked him.

"Won't be long now," he said.

"Why? Why…me?" she managed to gasp.

He looked back at her, the same, deranged smile on his face. "I was bored. And you were fun to play with, Cassie Bear."

He removed the pistol from his waist and slowly walked towards her, confident, sure; a predator moving towards the injured prey to deliver the final blow; the death blow.

"But now, you're not fun anymore." He raised the gun and pointed it at the right side of her chest. The safety clicked as it was removed. Cassandra bit down on her lower lip as she watched the man smile, a cold, cruel smile that would've frozen the hottest fires in Hell.

"And I don't like keeping old toys around."

Another shot rang out.

Cassandra's eyes became heavier as she fought to stay awake. Swimming in front of her eyes, she thought she saw a familiar curly-haired face staring down at her. Sherlock wasn't there, though. She knew he couldn't be there. The man had said that even Sherlock's brilliance would never guess the location he'd taken her to.

But even though she shouldn't have tormented herself with the vision of this dark-haired devil of a man, she still couldn't let go of the image of his face above hers, his eyes scurrying back and forth between the darkening patch that was spreading across her abdomen and her paling face; his lips, those wonderful, beautiful lips that she had kissed, moving at a speed that she could barely keep up with. Even his touch, the gentle, soothing way he caressed her face, how he tenderly stroked her hair, pushing it away from her face. Then, she thought in her foolish, dying heart that she heard him speak three, incredible words in the most tender and urgent whisper a man like this could.

"Please. Don't die."

He was afraid. The great Sherlock Holmes was afraid.

She smiled a little as she coughed once more, the pain in her stomach no longer blazing like an out-of-control wildfire. Now, it was a dulling ache that was fading away. She opened her eyes again and the familiar face of her beloved detective had vanished from sight, the cold, dark dampness of the room the only company she had remaining in these final hours.

A tear formed in the corner of her eye and managed to escape, rolling down her cheek, followed by another one and another until the floodgates were opened, and the young woman was crying, her sobs echoing all around the dark prison, her final resting place.

Sherlock would never find her. She was going to die alone.

As the darkness slowly began to claim her, she thought she heard the metal door crash into the wall. Then, she imagined the sound of running feet and someone shouting about an ambulance. It was the last thing she heard before the darkness finally swallowed her up into its depths.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and her head slacked back and to the side. Sherlock flung himself down beside her and seized her wrist, pressing his thumb and forefinger into her skin. His heart sank in his chest as he looked at the still face of the beautiful, young woman.

No breathing, no pulse. She was gone.

"I'm too late," he whispered, allowing a tear to escape from his eyes and roll down his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Cassandra."

The single teardrop slid down to his chin and dripped onto the center button of her favourite, red blouse. Right above her now still heart.

Sherlock allowed more tears to escape from his eyes as he knelt beside the body of the only woman he'd ever loved so dearly.

His foe had won. He had lost.

The game was over.

**So...exciting first chapter, huh? Please review guys so that I can know whether or not to continue with this story. Maybe at least 5 reviews would convince me...Anyways, hope you enjoyed it! Review and let me know! **

**Happy Reading!**

**-Livangel16**


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